Togewonuku
by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
Summary: Every step a young couple takes leads to consequences, but the trials these lovers face are hardly of the norm.... : Based on the more romantic aspect of the story, this is a continuation of sexylyon's Interlude from Usagi and Mamoru's parting onwards. :
1. Hirumae wo Otsuge

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A/N: Kon'wa, minna-chan! When I read sexylyon's _Interlude_, I knew there were a couple of sequels out there, but they were either unfinished or not to my taste. With sexylyon's permission, I brought this up with Jikkan-chan, and she agreed to help me, considering I'm still a virgin, meaning I can't write about what I don't know about. (Yes, there will be mature material in here, so now that you've been forewarned, all minors scoot!)  
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**Now! Presenting _Togewonuku_, which is a Japanese expression meaning '_To pluck the thorns_ from a rose'. I was rather pleased when I found that definition, but ack! Onto the story now, ne? Review, please!

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**Togewonuku **

A bishojou senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**I – Hirumae wo Otsuge **

**_Revelations before Noon

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The light touch of a hand on his tense shoulder brought Mamoru back to himself. "Mamo-chan," its owner whispered softly. "Matte, onegai." As he turned to her, a single dark brow arched questioningly, sapphire eyes met cerulean. "Kenji-papa would not be very pleased to see me driven up in a boy's car, after all," she reminded him gently. "Besides, I was at Rei-chan's house, remember?"

Mamoru nodded but continued to drive before pulling over about four houses from hers. They sat for a few moments in a silence heavy with understanding even as the air between them grew thick with regret. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they leaned towards one another, the kiss lighter than the whisper of a hummingbird's wings, and she was gone, green tunic and white lace whipping around her as she fled his presence, the passenger door slamming with a dreadful finality.

With a start, Mamoru realised he had yet to breathe after their parting kiss and inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as they detected her faint scent; that of spring nights and wildflowers. Watchful eyes and a protective gaze followed his golden-haired lover as she rang the doorbell. Only once she had disappeared from view did he start the car up once more, feeling strangely empty.

'_It's disheartening,_' he reflected as he stopped to allow a jogger to pass by, '_that last night might have been the only time; that tomorrow I may be dead and that she will never know what befell me._' His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. '_For all she knows, I could have left the country – left her – I don't believe the Dark Kingdom delivers the bodies of their enemies back to their beloved to mourn over. Most likely I will be ashes blown on the wind, and an ethereal memory in the night._'

Turning down the road towards the high school he attended, Mamoru sighed in annoyance as he recalled the schoolbooks and binders spilled on the floor after he had swept them off his coffee table to lay her there in their stead. The corners of his lips turned into a wistful smile as he remembered her beauty and flawless form before they dipped back downwards into a frown. By the Gods, it was enough that she haunted his dreams shamelessly, but that she did so in daylight also? "While I am _driving_, no less!" he muttered, amused in spite of himself.

He tried to remember just what was so dreadful about having her on his mind and then gave up after _distraction_; _distraction_ and _distraction_ were the only ones that came up. "And now I'm talking to myself," he sighed. "If I go bonkers, I'm sending her the bill for the psychiatrist." Noting the tell-tale stirring in his trousers, he bit his lip with an air of resignation and added _discomfort_ to the decidedly short (and unnecessary) list as well. '_Bloody girl's going to be the death of me_.'

Not that he minded. Far from it, in fact. It was a considerably more pleasant demise than what the Dark Kingdom probably had planned for him. Exhaling loudly through his nose, he closed his eyes momentarily before taking the turn leading back to his apartment complex. Biology started in half an hour, and Langdon-sensei, though an excellent teacher, had a certain fondness for locking tardy students outside the classroom for half the class period.

He knew that those thirty minutes were enough time to drive back to retrieve his homework, grab something from the fruit bowl and then make it to Biology class with a few minutes to spare. Spirits lifting, Mamoru pictured his oft-tardy lover running desperately down the streets, coltish limbs flailing wildly as her headlong dash to school was punctuated by the usual collisions with innocent passers-by. "Typical Usako," he murmured with a fond smile before it faded abruptly. With her in it, his apartment could be called 'home'. Without her, it was desolate.

Mamoru's unrelenting grip on the steering wheel belied the strange patience with which he awaited the change of the red light. "One day, Usako," he promised quietly, eyes flashing. "One day…"

* * *

Usagi could still feel Mamoru's eyes on her, possessive and wary all at once. She knew that he was worried, which would be why he had driven her within fifty yards of an infamously and almost obsessively overprotective Tsukino Kenji. He did not want her to walk alone where he could not follow her.

She found it endearing rather than irritating, really, and understood that his reluctance to let her out of his sight was not, as some people would assume, distrust in her abilities to protect herself or a desire to stifle. On the contrary, his actions all but screamed his love and concern for her, and she tucked that thought snugly about her like a warm shawl before ringing the bell.

It was Ikuko who answered, and the tender, gentle smile she gave her daughter froze the blood in the girl's veins, and the warm feeling all but disappeared, fleeing to a distant corner of her mind and tucking itself away. Usagi barely noticed, a single thought ringing through her head as she followed her mother dazedly up the stairs and into her room, dimly registering Ikuko closing the door behind them.

She knew.

Somehow, she knew.

Bowing her head, Usagi tried and failed to find any sort of shame for what she had done. The love she and Mamoru shared would not be broken simply because certain people might find it unacceptable, and the memories of what they had done would not be tainted by the fact that most would have found the two irresponsible for consummating their love at such an age. Neither would allow it.

Head now raised defiantly, a firm expression on her pale face, Usagi met her calm-looking mother's gaze briefly before bending to retrieve the school skirt that lay half-concealed beneath her desk, and so did not see the determined light flaring in the indigo-haired woman's eyes.

"Leave it, Usagi-chan," Ikuko said softly, causing the blonde to stiffen warily before standing, skirt in hand.

"Doushite, Mama?" she inquired blandly. "If I do not hurry, I shall be late for school."

Ikuko smiled and held up the cordless phone she always carried in her apron pocket while inside the house. Never taking her eyes from her curious-looking daughter's she dialled a number quickly and spoke with the staff currently on duty at the office. "Moshi moshi, Tsukino Ikuko da, and I'm calling about my daughter, Tsukino Usagi. Due to a family emergency, I believe it would be prudent to keep her home for the day. Will you please note her absence as excused? Hai domo arigatou, Koucha-san. Sayonara." Ikuko pressed the _end _button.

By this point, Usagi's eyes were about as wide as saucers and frightened as a doe's. Ikuko slipped the phone back in her pocket before spreading her arms wide. "Come here, Usagi-aijou," she beckoned, smiling reassuringly as the blonde took a few steps towards her before they embraced tightly, Ikuko gently rocking a tearful Usagi. Leading her over to the bed and indicating that they both sit, Ikuko began to take down her daughter's hair, gentle fingers removing pins from one bun even as Usagi's hands came up to undo the other. "Fear not, cry not, aijou-chan, I'm not angry," Ikuko murmured, kissing the top of her daughter's head.

Usagi didn't bother to deny anything, and her mother's smile was all the reassurance she needed to know she was right in not hiding things from her. "You're not?" she asked, desperate for some kind of reassurance. She loved Mamoru deeply and unrestrainedly, but her love for her mother, a daughter's love, caused her to seek not approval but acceptance. Usagi's heart sang as Ikuko gave her that same tender, gentle smile from when their gazes had met in the hallway.

"Iie, I'm not," she placed the pins and ribbons on Usagi's bedside table and finger-combed what few knots there were out. "A mother almost always knows, aijou-chan, and I know you feel deeply about this man. It's in your eyes, your smile, and a hundred and one other subtleties that only a parent's eye may see. It is improbable that your first love will be the one you stay with forever, but I hope that your first time was beautiful." Catching her daughter's flush, Ikuko's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Usagi, I'm not going to ask for details – some things must be kept sacred, after all – but might I know his name?"

Usagi hesitated audibly before sighing, a dreamy smile stealing itself across her features and softening them with a serenity that seemed surprisingly fitting on the usually-hyperactive blonde's face. "His name," she said slowly, "is Chiba Mamoru. And before you ask, hai, he's the egocentric jerkwad who could drive me up the wall and onto the ceiling, but he has, anou, a softer side."

Ikuko's eyes danced mischievously as she helped her daughter undress, undoing buttons and tugging the dress off slender white shoulders. "I have no doubt of that, if he can put that wistful expression on my daughter, especially after this rant I was forced to endure one time. She was quite the spitfire last week, raving about how Mamoru-baka had the worst sub-zero personality, the manners of a rabid chipmunk and the consideration of a louse."

Usagi blushed, though she didn't really regret the words she'd spoken that day in a fit pique. "He deserved it at the time, Mama," she muttered.

"Of course he did," Ikuko laughed. "Now, do you still feel an ache?"

Confused, Usagi looked to her mother before her meaning finally dawned. "Oh. _Oh_! Anou… it hurts only a _little_. He was very gentle about it."

"No matter how gentle or considerate the lover, it will always hurt the first time. The pain does not vanish upon your second lovemaking, but diminishes gradually," Ikuko lectured. She paused before opening the door, ignoring Usagi's shriek of dismay ("Mama, I'm in my _underwear_! Shingo or Papa might see!") and listening intently to Kenji's bellows up the stairwell before closing the door, a glint in her dark eyes. "Your father is going to send your brother to school. Now, don't get any ideas about me doing this regularly, because I'm not going to cancel school for you every time –"

"Nani!" Usagi's eyes widened once more. "You're _condoning_ this?"

Ikuko rolled her eyes. "You're going to need a lot of help coming up with excuses, anyway," she told her daughter as the slam of the front door echoed through the house. "Now that your father and brother are out of the way, into the bath you go."

Usagi blinked before colouring again. "Ikuko-mama… I already washed this morning…" she trailed off embarrassedly. Ikuko grinned wickedly.

"It always feels different in water," she informed her daughter mock-airily, casually waving a hand about.

"MAMA!" Usagi bellowed, embarrassed beyond belief.

Ikuko rolled her eyes. '_Really_…' "I'm going to go run the bath, so finish undressing and I'll hunt down those old bath salts…" the older woman exited the room humming gaily and Usagi was left to stare after her in mortified bemusement until a feline yowl caught her attention.

"_Who touched you?_" Luna spat, ruby eyes blazing. Usagi blinked reddening further and looked down at herself. Now completely nude, the bruises that had formed sometime last night were particularly evident and there were some on her hips, thighs, arms, and lovebites all over her upper torso. The blonde flushed darker and thought frantically for something, anything to appease her enraged guardian. "I'll _claw_ his eyes out for looking at you, then dismember him for _thinking_ of you, then rip – him – to _– shreds_!"

Usagi hastily revaluated her original speech, which included revealing to the psychotically overprotective feline exactly whom 'he' was. "What makes you think anyone touched me?" she tried desperately. '_Oh, excellent way to diffuse the situation, Usagi-baka. The bruises, for one…_'

Luna paused mid-rant and gave her an incredulous look. "Usagi-chan, you're not actually thinking of _protecting_ the lout, are you? As for your question… I can _smell_ a _man_!" she hissed. The cat then blinked, more than a little concerned. "Usagi… you _gave_ yourself to him?"

Usagi was silent, but the steadily deepening hue on her cheeks and the rest of her body gave her dead away. Luna calmed then, and then curled up on Usagi's lap. "Is it true, Usagi-chan?" she asked softly.

"H-h-hai," Usagi stammered, unable to lie about this kind of matter to Luna – after all, she was not ashamed; merely unhappy about the lecture and reactions she'd almost certainly get from the senshi as well as the cat. Although _she _was not sorry for what she'd done, her sisters and guardian might… Usagi automatically braced herself, waiting for the inevitable.

"If you love him and he loves you, then all is well," Luna concluded with a smile.

Usagi blinked. Luna wasn't supposed to say that… "_Nani!_"

Taken aback, Luna nuzzled her charge affectionately. "To give yourself to a man is a wonderful thing," she said quietly. "I was only so furious because I thought you had been taken against your will."

"Demo… aren't you going to lecture me about how young and irresponsible I am?"

Luna shot her a strange look. "Am I supposed to?" She shook her head. "Age-wise, it's about time. Perhaps standards nowadays are different, but in the time of the Silver Millennium, women were betrothed and such as early as eight. Courting is different, because it is commoners and fighters who do it – nobles are often in arranged marriages. Few have the luck to marry for love."

"But they get married before they… they have sex, right? Aren't you ashamed of me or something?"

Luna sighed. "Usagi-chan, few Lunarians ever married. Marriage is a sacred ceremony meant to bind two families together as one through their children. On the Moon, it was generally a ritual to unite houses and bloodlines. Commoners courted and stayed with one another, but Earth's custom – virgin before wedding night – is particularly foolish."

The blonde blinked. "So… you're not angry with me for… anou…"

"Making love at age fifteen?" Luna chuckled. "Iie, I'm not. How could I when I was in a similar situation?"

"_NANI_!"

"Usagi-chan, did I hear voices in here?" Ikuko was back, eyes wary before they lit up at the sight of her bruises. A smile that could only be described as wicked spread across the indigo-haired woman's lips. "My, my, he was certainly _rough_ with you, wasn't he?"

Instead of the anticipated shriek, Usagi's eyes glazed over dreamily. "Honestly? Iie, he was… it hurt very much, but he didn't force himself on me or anything. It was beautiful." Her eyes sharpened once more. "No regrets."

Ikuko smiled warmly and beckoned her naked daughter out of the room and into the bathroom where a relaxing scent that was a subtle mix of lavender, rosemary and mint could be smelt.

"Mama?"

The indigo-haired woman smiled gently at her gesturing at the deep tub, which was filled to only six inches below the brim. "Careful about getting in – I'll make you scrub the entire place dry if you spill the water."

Cracking a small grin, Usagi tested the water with a cautious toe before sinking contentedly into its soothing warmth. "Mmmmm…"she murmured ecstatically, prompting a low laugh from her mother.

"My sobo, your great-grandmother, specialised in aromatherapy and came up with this." Ikuko winked exaggeratedly at her daughter and tapped the side of her nose mock-knowingly. "It's a family secret, and I'll give you the recipe later, ne? It will at the very least sooth your hurts, but it's a little expensive to make."

"I'll gladly give up my lunch money just to… oooh, this feels so good…" Usagi half-moaned, half-sighed and then blushed as she remembered her mother was still in the room.

"I'll leave you to enjoy your bath then, shall I?" Ikuko chuckled, exiting the bathroom but leaving the door half-open so that she might be called for assistance. Usagi merely closed her eyes again and allowed the herb fragrances to drift over her.

Usagi finally managed to muster the willpower to move, if languidly, her hand to retrieve the bar of soap. She was still washing herself when Luna nudged the door fully open and whisper-yelled at the startled girl in the tub: "Usagi-chan, a youma at Moto Azabu!"

Usagi's eyes widened and she reached up to pluck the broach from the air, thrusting it above her head as her mouth opened to form her henshin phrase… but the broach had anticipated her, and feathers whirled gently about her frame as the transformation took her humanity and iridescent wings gleamed briefly –

Then she was mortal again, though not quite human, her tiny skirt swishing as gloved hands scooped the black feline into gentle arms and Sailormoon dashed through the halls, boots clicking on the wooden floorboards. Too late, she remembered her mother's presence, and Ikuko watched disbelievingly as Tokyo's most prominent superhero sped through the front door, ponytails streaming behind her slender form in a way that was all too familiar.

Stricken with a realisation that was terrible and awe-inspiring all at once, the indigo-haired woman sprinted through her home to throw the bathroom door wide open.

'_Gone_,' Ikuko thought with a numb horror that gradually escalated into mild panic. '_Oh, Usagi… why didn't you tell me?_'

She strode decisively to the living room – she could not follow her daughter now, but the news was bound to have something…

"A morning of revelations indeed," she muttered, half-amused, half-terrified. "Aijou, onegai… stay safe…"

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**_Glossary_**

**_matte_****—'wait' **

**_onegai_****—'please' **

**_doushite_****—'why; for what reason' **

**_moshi moshi_****—'hello (phone only)' **

**_Tsukino Ikuko da_****—'This is Ikuko Tsukino (speaking)' **

**_aijou_****—'one's beloved daughter' **

**_anou_****—'excuse me; well…' **

**_demo_****—'but; however; even' **

**_sobo_****—'(one's own) grandmother' **

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**A/N: The next chapter of Kakera should be up shortly - Friday, latest! We promises, bad grammar and all... /puppy eyes/. Now, please review!  
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	2. Selene no Fukutsu

**A/N/Jikkan-chan comes onstage clad in sackcloth and ashes and goes to hands and knees before the audience./ _Gomengomengomennasai_****—****The horrible lateness of this chapter and the almost-hiatus of _Aika no Tsuki_ is most regrettable, and Jikkan-chan takes full responsibility! In reparation, she will commit honourable seppuku****—****/pulls out dull spoon/**

**/Arashi-chan takes the spoon away and whaps Jikkan on the head with it./ Stop that.**

**/Jikkan-chan rubs her head and glares at Arashi's retreating back./ Well excuse _Jikkan-chan_ for getting into the spirit of things…. /sigh/ Seriously, folks, we _are_ really sorry about this all. _Togewonuku_ Act II was actually all but half a page finished within a week of Act I—and has been ever since. Jikkan-chan would blame herself, but Arashi-chan would hit her with the spoon again—fortunately, she brought backups/Produces a silver candlestick/ BAD JIKKAN-CHAN! NO BISCUIT/_WHAM_/**

**/Arashi-chan wanders in again, takes the candlestick away, and goes off to badminton class/**

**Whooo….. _colours_… /shakes herself/ Where was Jikkan-chan? O yes. _Aika no Tsuki._ Nobody's really to blame there, in particular; honestly, our font of inspiration for it has run away—Jikkan-chan suspects to help Eight of Swords-chan with her homework. We miss it sorely, and pray it will come home again soon.**

**This chapter is dedicated to GoddessMoon, who's just cool like that. So there.**

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**Togewonuku**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**II – Selene no Fukutsu**

_**Selene's Fortitude**_

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She bounded from rooftop to rooftop all swiftness and grace, though inside her heart pounded in fear and worry gnawed ceaselessly. "Mamo-chan goes to Moto Azabu, Luna," Sailormoon murmured as she landed hard on concrete before bending her knees and springing towards the next building. "What if…" 

"I understand your concern, Sailormoon," Luna answered gently, "but I am sure they evacuated the area…"

Sailormoon shook her head and retrieved her communicator. "Did you contact the others?"

The cat nodded curtly, eyes gazing ahead. "Hai – demo, they did not answer. Ami should have gotten the alert via the Mercury computer, however."

"Looks like I'm on my own for now," Sailormoon said lightly, trying to suppress the up swell of panic that the thought caused. '_I can do this – I've done it before, many times, before even Ami – Mercury-chan – came…_' courage returned, and she thought once again of her Mamoru's love; warmth settled about her like a comfortable, well-worn robe. '_Familiar… Mamo-chan…_'

Luna glanced at her charge's face, and felt her heart swell with pride at the determined set of Sailormoon's shoulders as her golden ponytails whipped about them. '_She has always had the purest and most beautiful heart of all,_' the black feline reflected with a sad smile before her gasp echoed Sailormoon's.

"What _is _that?" Sailormoon whisper-yelled, stopping abruptly. She began to circle the monster, taking refuge in the trees bordering the courtyard. She would not stand a chance against the behemoth that towered almost ten feet above her. "How the heck am I supposed to fight it?" she moaned quietly, and she breathed faster as her panic escalated.

It looked to be made of iron and flesh and darkness; metal blended into black skin and bone that glowed an iridescent grey-black in the morning sun. Claw-like fingers flexed and from viciously long teeth hung a long rope of viscous yellow-tinged liquid.

"Ewww, it drools!" Sailormoon observed in a disgusted whisper, setting Luna down. Blue and red gazes noted that the youma, though obviously formidable in strength, had several areas its metal armour left unprotected.

"Speed," Luna muttered and Sailormoon nodded shortly. Assessing an enemy's weakness was hardly her specialty, but even she could see how a fast attacker might take full advantage of the more vulnerable spots on the youma's body.

"I just have to move before those claws turn me into Senshi-kabob," Sailormoon attempted to joke, but her levity could not conceal the dismay in her eyes. The youma didn't seem to be moving much – it was simply standing there, not doing anything, but that could change any moment… "I don't have anything that might hurt it remotely – my tiara, perhaps. The Moon stick wouldn't help me at all –"

"'Moon healing escalation'?" Luna suggested quietly.

"I'm pretty sure that's not a nijizuishou carrier, Luna-chan," Sailormoon sighed, rubbing gloved hands over her eyes. "Gomen ne for being –"

"Iie, iie, I see your point," the cat let out a low growl of frustration. "We've never tested that attack against a non-carrier before, and it takes too much time to power up. If we had a distraction –"

"Tuxedo Kamen's fast," Sailormoon pointed out. "If he distracted it…"

"Even if we knew whether or not he is the enemy, we can't rely on him all the time," Luna countered, fort the first time feeling true regret that the masked man might not be an ally. "He's already proven he has his own – _it's moving_!"

Sailormoon balled her hands into fists and gnawed at her lip worriedly before she could take it no longer. Why was she still hiding? There was no one but she… everything was topsy-turvy; wasn't she supposed to be the useless one, 'Little Miss One-Shot Wonder' who had to be dug out of hiding?

Rei's voice cut through her mind. '_"At least we can all say you live up to your name, Usagi —"_'

Everything had always been topsy-turvy; she jumped out and made speeches and _then_ went to ground — but a cornered rabbit will fight, surprising foes with its ferocity.

**_Surprise_**.

"No speeches," she said with a hysterical giggle, before she removed her tiara and powered it up so that it glowed brightly as a small sun –

_Slash!_

_Slash!_

_Slash!_

Sailormoon bounded out of reach of the lumbering limbs, and allowed herself a tiny smile even as a roar of pain and fury rent the air.

This youma was slow.

Perhaps she'd survive this, after all.

She continued in this vein awhile, striking and retreating, again and again so that the youma was kept confused and enraged. However, she had not escaped unscathed – its black blood was like acid, and there were raw burns where she had not been quick enough.

Sailormoon leapt again, tiara blazing white-hot… and then her arm was held in a crushing grip; a quietly victorious voice whispering in her ear.

"Sailormoon," Zoisite chuckled darkly, and cruelly twisted her arm; blue eyes widening in mute agony as her arm popped out of its socket, her mouth opened to let out a shriek of helplessness as pain lanced up and down the abused limb.

She was kicked into the ground, her body twitching spasmodically as she began to cry, tears streaking her face as she tried to scream, anything, just _anything _to stop the pain. She didn't look up as she was lifted by her throat so that she dangled limply several feet above the pavement, her tiara dim on the ground metres away from reach. Sure that this was the end, she blocked out Luna's anguished cries and lifted her eyes to meet the youma's dead gaze in silent challenge — and Sailormoon felt her heart turn as she watched it bare its fangs and laugh.

A sharp crack filled the air, and then there was _agony_ there was screaming her useless arm could not help her and neither could her good one and she was alone in a world that existed only for pain –

Where she existed only to feel it.

* * *

Perspiration beaded on his forehead as he continued to fight the instinctive urge to transform. Mamoru's hands clenched and unclenched fitfully as a muscle twitched in his cheek. 

When the youma had materialised, the entire school had gone into lockdown mode – no one was allowed outside, nor were they permitted to leave the classrooms. '_Did they ever even consider that their very saviours might be trapped within these walls?_' He glared around at his cheerful classmates.

"Sailormoon's here!" one boy said, grinning with relief. "We're going to be safe!"

"Baka!" Mamoru snapped in spite of himself – the effort of fighting Tuxedo Kamen's emergence drained him by the second, and he was getting decidedly irritable. "Did you think to notice that she's alone? Even her senshi aren't with her!"

He saw the other open his mouth to retort and suddenly, the pain became that much more intense – his eyes bulged momentarily and he fell to his knees as screams that rang loudly in his ears drowned out Oroka-kun's reply.

'_Why do I feel her pain?_' he wondered dizzily as he sprang to his feet, shoving those in front of him aside to get to the window that offered the best view of the fight. Another scream tore through him and he heard its faint echo from outside. His hand dove instinctively into his school blazer's inner pocket where it reached into his subspace portal to conjure the roses – perhaps no one would see the sparks then –

But his fingers encountered flawlessly-cut, cool stone and he froze, eyes darting towards Zoisite's laughing form, to Sailormoon's tortured one and back to the pocket.

Zoisite would most definitely be interested in the yellow nijizuishou crystal… but how would he get the Dark General's attention?

'_Hold on, Sailormoon,_' he clumsily attempted to send a wave of reassurance down the bond and closed his eyes as his mind raced. Supposing he _did _get Zoisite's attention, would he survive? Zoisite had powerful dark magic at his command – Mamoru, even as Tuxedo Kamen, had only his ability to heal and direct energies… and his cane, which hid a sword. Always before, he had the senshi to back him – were Zoicite limited to the same resources and power Tuxedo Kamen had, no doubt he could best the dark general, but…

'_Usako… will last night be the only night?_' To his shock, tears choked his throat. He didn't _want _to die now, he realised. He wanted to go back to his Usako and tell her life was too short – that he would never leave her again and to hell with what society thought.

Then Mamoru was ashamed. Usagi would never condone such selfishness from him, just as he would never condone it from her — and what sort of world would he condemn her to, with _both_ of its protectors gone?

Finally brought back from his thoughts, he realised Sailormoon had stopped screaming, and that his classmates were shouting in fear and panic, Langdon-sensei hastily unfastening the locks to the door and ushering them out as quickly as he could.

Mamoru looked up in just in time to see the large glass window before him explode inwards and Zoisite's face, twisted in a triumphant, insane grimace as he tackled the dark-haired junior to the floor.

"Go!" he shouted to the sensei; when Langdon continued to hesitate, Mamoru's eyes flashed warningly and an invisible force shoved the teacher into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Stuffing the nijizuishou back into his subspace pocket, Mamoru felt a rough hand fist in his hair and force defiant midnight eyes to meet flat green ones.

"So," Zoisite sneered, hoisting the seventeen-year-old above his head and rising into the air so that Mamoru, who topped the general by nearly over half a foot, could not find purchase on the ground. "This is the face you hide behind that mask of yours."

Mamoru managed a polite smile before a foot lashed out, causing the older man to drop him as he tried in vain to ease the sudden numbness in his knee. A rose materialised in Mamoru's hand as he fell; while Zoisite remained distracted, Tuxedo Kamen, cape still coalescing around him, used his shoulder to ram the Dark Kingdom general through the air and through another window. Glass flashed in a bright arc to fall to the grass below.

The younger man was forced to leap away in order to avoid a hail of ice crystals, and Zoisite disappeared from view only to reappear directly in front of him, a fist crackling with negative energy soaring towards his opponent's masked face. Gritting his teeth, Kamen caught it at the wrist and weathered the storm as dark magic ripped through him; he could feel his skin blistering angrily.

"You don't need the mask anymore, _Tuxedo Kamen_," Zoisite taunted, and Kamen let out a low cry as something sharp and cold pierced his shoulder. He recoiled instantly, reaching to pull the ice crystal from his flesh, and his dark blue eyes blazed with hatred as hurled the missile back at Zoisite's hovering form.

To the masked man's frustration and resignation, the crystal vanished within inches of the dark general's smirk. "Now that we know your face, it shouldn't be too difficult to place a name to it."

Again, Tuxedo Kamen launched himself upwards; again, Zoisite caught his blows and the smell of singed flesh filled the air. This time, however, there raged a firestorm in Tuxedo Kamen and Mamoru's person – Sailormoon's screams, his own guilt for waiting so long, the agony of holding back the transformation as well as the single desire to simply _end _things, frothed and boiled as the fire built higher and higher…

A golden discus, white-hot with pure energy, arced out to strike Zoisite from behind, and a familiar voice made foreign by exhaustion and pain cried out: "Now, Tuxedo Kamen!"

But he had already drawn his cane, and dark wood melted into bright steel that flashed down, gold flames wreathing the blade…

…and as twice before, a piece of marble-sized, polished stone landed soundlessly on a small mound of silver-grey dust that blew away in the wind.

Tuxedo Kamen knelt and with expressionless eyes, pocketed the zoisite. Eyes widening in remembrance, he turned back towards the youma –

"Shabon Spray!"

"Fire Soul!"

"Supreme Thunder!"

Kamen watched, concern flitting across otherwise stoic features as he watched Sailormoon draw her Moon stick, limbs trembling with fatigue. Before she had even completed the crooked circle, he felt her mind blank as she slipped into unconsciousness.

"_Sailormoon!_"

"What's with her?"

"Selene's mercy, her _back_!"

"Senshi," Kamen interrupted quietly. "The youma."

As three faces turned towards him, they showed mistrust, curiosity and anxiety. "What _happened_?" they chorused.

He was not listening; the firestorm raged yet, and he wondered distantly if he could just –

His palms itched and he removed a glove before thrusting it forward, willing, _needing_ it to get _out_…

A torrent of red-gold flame blazed forth, and he replaced his glove after a moment of slight hesitation and a little fear of his own power, sleeping all this time. Turning on his heel, he left Mercury, Mars and Jupiter to gape from the little heap of dust to his retreating form, and back towards where another breeze blew the remnants of the youma away.

As he knelt beside Sailormoon's crumpled form, she opened glazed blue eyes to look at him, and her mouth shaped the beginning of a familiar name before she halted, confused, and sighed before falling back into darkness. '_Ma…mo…_' it echoed faintly back, and he looked sharply at her before dismissing it.

Tuxedo Kamen bit his lip in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness and uncertainty before prying her mouth open and stuffing his handkerchief between her teeth. When she didn't wake, he sighed, grasped her arm firmly in one hand, supported her body with the other, and _yanked_.

Sailormoon's scream tore itself from her throat and he winced, muffled though it was, embracing her awkwardly and allowing her to weep bitter tears into his vest as he healed her back, golden sparks flashing from his fingers to pool in the deep abrasions.

"You came in the end."

Her voice was hoarse, and he didn't meet her eyes for fear his selfishness – which had most possibly cost her more pain than necessary – would reflect in his gaze. Guilt welled up in him and he quashed it firmly.

"Hai, I did." He shrugged very slightly, feeling Sailormoon's head nod against his shoulder. Feeling a sudden urge to explain just _why _he had almost failed in his… his thoughts paused in confusion. 'In his'? 'In his' _what?_

Suddenly unreasonably annoyed at himself, Tuxedo Kamen told his patient in clipped tones of the new 'lockdown' method Moto Azabu was employing and how he had been delayed in trying to slip away to henshin.

She listened drowsily and made humming noises where appropriate, but she was clearly near the end of her strength, and as he healed the last bruise, Tuxedo Kamen was vividly aware that he was nearly as drained. It took less effort to manipulate a foreign entity's energy and health than his own, but he had never done such a large healing before.

"Domo, and thanks for coming," she managed a sweet smile for him before she eased into sleep again. Standing, Kamen felt his legs wobble minutely as he passed the unconscious senshi to an impatient Jupiter. He wavered for a moment, thinking of his bed at home, now cold without Usako, but still a place to rest quietly…

Sparing half a thought for the rest of his classes, which would probably be cancelled anyway, Tuxedo Kamen nodded farewell to the other senshi before leaving in a whisper of red and black, pausing only to ream out the sheepish-looking camera crews and principal before going somewhere isolated to dehenshin.

As he let himself into his apartment, Mamoru dropped his keys in dismay as he remembered his beloved car, now defenceless on school grounds. Battling momentarily with himself, he finally let out a muttered oath and collapsed onto his bed, discarding his blazer and tie before succumbing to exhaustion and a healing sleep as golden sparks leapt about and around his skin.

* * *

Ikuko was almost beside herself; her young face bore marks of where she had clutched it hard as she watched Tokyo's superheroine being flogged half to death before the enemy became distracted by someone in the classroom. She knew that by the time she got to Moto Azabu, and on foot at that, it all might be over, for better or worse – that knowledge was all that kept her from running to her poor, defenceless baby. She had cursed the other senshi and Tuxedo Kamen as she watched her daughter fight alone against that _thing_ in the courtyard, but suddenly understood as the camera swung around to zoom in on Tuxedo Kamen's coldly furious features as he gestured jerkily at the school. 

"The senshi are not invincible," he stated, and his eyes were unreadable behind the half-mask. "_I _am not invincible. You were lucky to have anyone come to your aid at all, and she suffered all the more for it. We don't _have_ to come. We don't _have_ to risk our lives and endure pain beyond what your foolish, closed minds deem imaginable while_ you_ watch the girl you call heroine writhe in pain and feel, if you are especially charitable that day, a mild twinge of conscience that we fight your battles for you.

"I couldn't care that you can't help us; Kami knows you'd only get in the way, but putting schools into lockdown and sitting on your arses isn't going to help us – or _you_,for that matter. When you see a youma, run." He suddenly turned to face the camera, and Ikuko held back a shudder. He looked disconcertingly sinister, lips pressed into a thin line as his cape snapped crisply in the breeze as his wounds glowed with golden light and vanished.

He was every inch the person that had just killed a fifteen-foot-tall monster, and the man controlling it. And yet… Ikuko could feel nothing but admiration for him. He was young; couldn't be more than sixteen, seventeen, eighteen – but he fought. He did not fight for glamour or glory; she could hear the exhaustion in his voice. He fought because he had no choice, and the Senshi – _her__daughter_ – was just like him in that regard. Ikuko refused to believe that Usagi would destroy for any reason other than that there was simply no other recourse. She knew she had raised her daughter better than that.

And then he was gone, leaping directly over the camera. It made as if to follow him before focusing in on a grim-looking Sailormars and Sailormercury.

"We can't add much to what Kamen said," Mars all but snarled, "however, you can be sure that if I catch any camera crews near our next battle, I'll fry their equipment to a crisp; is that understood? That's if I don't throw a few fireballs in your direction first!" Her eyes shot violet flames at everyone about her, then at the camera itself.

Sailormercury placed a placating hand on Mars' shoulder. "You may not be aware of it," she said softly, "but we are all very young – just nearing sixteen. We are still schoolgirls, but we will _not _endanger our families and loved ones by revealing our secret identities."

"If you do something like this again – put a lockdown on all businesses and schools when a youma is sighted – don't even try pulling out the guilt card if we don't appear. If you think the loss of innocent lives is worth it if you learn 'secret' identities, then fine. As far as we're concerned, you'll have brought it down on your own fool heads," the fire senshi snapped.

Ikuko was distracted from the television and Mercury's soothing words to her companion as she felt herself being watched. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with an apologetic-looking Jupiter. Ikuko was startled, and then desperately relieved as she saw her little girl's chest rising and falling evenly in the deep rhythm of sleep. "She is – is she –?"

"Tuxedo Kamen healed her," Jupiter answered curtly, and laid her friend down on the settee. She shot a quick look at Luna – '_when did she get back here?_' Ikuko wondered absently – and sighed. Powering down, Ikuko blinked as Kino Makoto's emerald green eyes gazed into her shocked dark brown ones.

"Makoto-chan?" Ikuko felt an immense up swell of relief and worry. Relief, because her daughter's fighters were friends, and worry, because they were all just so _young_… "Shouldn't you be getting home now?" the elder Tsukino inquired softly. Then, it struck her just how rude she sounded and she back-pedalled hastily. "There's nothing wrong with you staying here – I'm sure Usagi will be grateful for the company when she wakes, but –"

Makoto, who had stiffened warily at first, relaxed and smiled. "Iie, iie, Tsukino-san, it's fine." She cast a worried glance at the windows, however, and her next remark was a little more business-like. "We should get her out of that fuku; if you have nosy neighbours —"

Ikuko nodded and went to draw the drapes. "No-one saw you coming here, then? I can't imagine that one Bishoujo Senshi carrying another, unconscious one is inconspicuous…"

The tall brunette winked at her from another window. "Nobody ever seems to look at the roof-tops," she said with a grin.

Usagi's mother smiled reluctantly. "And to think my daughter used to be afraid of heights… Now how does this work…?" She tugged experimentally at the fuku's bow, which took as much notice of her efforts as an oak notices a kitten's claws. "Makoto-chan, how do you get these things _on?_"

Makoto shrugged, strolling over to regard her leader. "Honestly? Our clothes vanish, and this stuff just appears; I don't even think it has _seams…_"

Ikuko peered up at her. "Then how do you ever get it off?"

"The same way you get it on," Makoto said absently, peering at Sailormoon's brooch.

"Which is?"

"Magic," the taller female said with a shrug, and reached for the bit of jewellery. "Let's see… we have a pen, but I think she transforms with this…" Long fingers wrapped around the broach and gave a gentle tug, then a harder one, then one so hard that Sailormoon was half-lifted from her resting-place, brooch and all. "Zeus' balls," Makoto mumbled, and clapped her free hand over her mouth, blushing. "Oh _man_, Tsukino-san, I am so _sorry _—"

Ikuko waved her off. "I've heard far worse from her father," she said absently. "We've got more important things to think of right now — such as the idea I just got. Support her back with your other hand, will you?"

The brunette blinked at her, but complied; her confusion melted into comprehension when Ikuko took hold of the surprisingly-stretchy fabric of Moon's fuku collar and pulled in both directions at once, allowing the woman to roll the bodysuit over the blonde's shoulders before pausing her daughter's complete lack of underwear. "Fascinatingly supportive and concealing," she observed after a moment, deciding to leave the fuku alone. It was best if Usagi's relationship with that Mamoru boy was kept quiet for now, and the bruises – though none were visible at the moment – were a dead giveaway. "Have you ever gotten wet in it?"

Kino Makoto might be a tomboy, Ikuko noted absently, but she could turn a most becoming shade of pink. "Ah, hai… there was an incident involving very sharp feathers and a water main," she said after a moment. "We were all _really glad_ to find out it doesn't go transparent…"

"There's that, at least," said Ikuko, tugging at one of her daughter's boots. "Do any of you have the least idea what any of this is made of?" She turned it over and over in her hands before putting it aside and turning to the other.

Makoto giggled, applying herself to the business of removing Usagi's jewellery. "Oh, I asked Mercury once — we all have; apparently it's sort of a tradition with the newbie to ask right off; Mars asked when she came, and when Mercury came Moon asked _her _— since, well, she's the only one who'd have even a chance of knowing, right? I make all my own clothes, but I've _never_ come across anything like this, no matter how expensive — there's no weave at all; you can cut it if you try really hard, but there are never loose threads, and when you henshin again, you'd never know the difference — and Mercury is the Incredibly Smart One With The Scanning Computer, so everyone asks her, over and over again." She giggled a little harder, before grimacing. "I don't think this choker is going to come off at all…"

"Never mind that," Ikuko told her, gathering up the earrings, hair-jewels, and tiara and wondering exactly just what to do with them before simply slipping them into her apron pocket for safekeeping. She tucked the boots under one arm and stood up. "Let's get her up to her room…" Makoto nodded and scooped the girl up as easily as her alter-ego had, and Ikuko marvelled for a moment as they headed up the stairs. She didn't _look_ that strong….

"So what does Mercury say that's so funny?" Ikuko asked after a moment, trying to restrain her urge to hover behind Makoto on the stairs in case she tripped and dropped her baby. If Makoto and Usagi fell, she'd make no difference at all…

…but she did it anyway.

"Oh, it's great fun," Makoto said cheerfully. "She turns bright red and starts ranting at length about 'utterly impossible' and 'ignores all the laws of physics' and 'completely artificial' and so forth — but that's just a warm-up because _then_ she gets into something she calls 'Clarke's Law', which she seems _really_ fond of 'cause she'll keep on talking and talking until all of a sudden she seems to realise she hasn't taken a breath in the last five minutes, and just falls over…"

Ikuko smiled slightly at the image of cool, collected Mercury — Mizuno Ami? — in full scientific spate. "So what does she conclude at the end?"

"Once we manage to revive her, you mean?" Makoto reached the end of the stairs and made a beeline for Usagi's room. "She says 'Magic, and don't ever ask again!' and then goes into I-can't-understand-this-so-I'll-sulk-for-ten-minutes mode…" Ikuko allowed herself to smile a little more as she held the door for the tall girl and her precious burden. A little strange, perhaps, but if it made them happy…

"How did all of those… injuries heal so quickly?" the indigo-haired woman inquired, feeling sick as she remembered the general who had beaten her daughter, and a vindictive flare of satisfaction at the knowledge that 'Zoisite' was nothing more than a thimbleful of dust on the wind. The older woman looked at Makoto only to witness the brunette's shoulders stiffening warily. "Makoto-chan?"

"Ah, gomen nasai, Ikuko-mama," Makoto sighed. "It's just… Tuxedo Kamen healed her."

Ikuko raised an eyebrow. "And that is something to be wary of because…?"

"We don't know his motives!" Makoto informed the curious Ikuko heatedly. "He jumps in and saves Usagi-chan all the time and we – the senshi – are worried that…"

"Hai?" Ikuko prompted when the tall girl's tirade trailed off and a few moments had passed. "Worried that…?"

Makoto flushed again. "Anou… Tuxedo Kamen is very charming, and Sailormoon fancies him. We're worried that he might take advantage of that – he's perceptive enough to be able to see that that the leader of the senshi likes him, so what will he do with that power?"

Ikuko looked sharply at her daughter's friend, seeing how her jaw was set stubbornly, long fingers clenched into angry fists. As if sensing Makoto's anger, Usagi stirred and whimpered a little. The brunette was by her side in a flash, stroking long blond hair out of a flushed face. Ikuko, however, was simply irritated. "Are you calling my daughter the _weak link_?"

"Iie!" the reply came so firmly that Ikuko relaxed, knowing it was the truth. "It's just… Tuxedo Kamen –"

"Everyone has their motives, Makoto-chan," Ikuko said softly. "And I don't believe that the hero of Tokyo who has bled more times than necessary to save my daughter can possibly be such a terrible person. He's a _boy_, Makoto-chan, just like you Sailor Senshi are _girls_. You have each of you barely touched the threshold of true adulthood…" she remembered the revelations of the morning, and her brow furrowed the slightest bit. '_Iie, my daughter is already a woman, though a very young one. And I do not believe she is fickle, but does Chiba Mamoru know of his lover's 'night job'?_'

Makoto continued to stroke Usagi's hair mindlessly as her shoulders slumped in light of this new thought. "How can we be sure?" she asked, uncharacteristically timid.

"We can't," came the instant reply. "Demo, we can wait and listen. Have you tried speaking to him?"

"I haven't," Makoto's voice was dry. "I think Usagi or Ami-chan or even Rei-chan might be able to tell you that, though – they were the first, after all."

'_Rei-chan… Hino Rei?_' Ikuko's mind connected the fiery miko and Sailormars almost immediately, but she put it out of her mind for the moment. "Then speak to him – perhaps you have been suspicious of him from the beginning. You girls have each other – from what I've seen and heard so far, I'd say he's very alone."

Makoto looked suitably chagrined, and Ikuko could almost see the girl's compassionate heart reassert itself for a moment before it hardened again. "Nevertheless, our Princess is our first concern – demo, I would probably get shouted at by Rei-chan for saying so, but right now, Sailormoon _is _my princess. She's the leader; even if she's not most tough or graceful person, she makes it so we – the senshi – have something in common – her. What more could we want?"

Ikuko's face softened from its stern expression. "You are a true friend to my daughter, Makoto," she said quietly. "Both of her – and I hope you'll stay that way."

Makoto gave the indigo-haired woman a wry smile. "Always," she promised, and they both knew she meant it.

Ikuko closed her eyes momentarily, and sighed. "Usagi-chan tells me often of how well you can cook, dear. Will you fix up some broth for her? Injury or no injury, she _must _go to school tomorrow, and starving her now will hardly have her up and about."

"Speaking of which, why wasn't Usagi-chan there today?" Makoto inquired, pausing in the doorframe.

"Family matters involving Usagi and myself," Ikuko answered, pleased to hear that her voice was steady and clear.

"Oh." Makoto seemed to accept this. "What kind of broth do you think she'd like, then? I always think that chicken tastes better, but beef is lovely for when you're feeling down and want something hot –"

"I trust your judgement, Mako-chan," Ikuko interrupted gently with an indulgent smile. "The broth, pleases?"

Makoto disappeared from the doorway and Ikuko stifled a sigh. "They're all so young…" she reflected, a twinge of unhappiness

Now, to get her daughter out of that fuku and into some proper clothes…

As the Tsukino matriarch removed the fuku completely, rolling it over her daughter's hips and pulling it off, she was immediately struck dumb – not because all of the bruises from her daughter's first time had vanished, but –

"Makoto-chan!" she called, eyes never wavering from her daughter's still body. "Makoto-chan!"

There was a pounding on the stairs and the tall brunette skidded past the doorway before darting into the room. "Gomen nasai, I'll make beef broth instead if you – Thor's Thunder!" The senshi of Jupiter's eyes remained fixated on Usagi's nude form before embarrassment and an arched eyebrow from her friend's mother had her looking away hastily.

"Not quite what I had in mind, Mako-chan, but of a similar sentiment," Ikuko finally mumbled. "Now, tell me, did any of you senshi notice that Usagi-chan appears to look more seventeen and eighteen than fifteen when she is… transformed?"

* * *

**AN part the second: As Jikkan-chan is too dignified to beg, Arashi-chan shall do it/gets down on her hands and knees and cries crocodile—err, _all-too-real_ tears/ PLEASE! REVIEW/begglepuds/**


	3. Kikkyou

**A/N: Ackness! Sorry for the long and unbroken absence of the A-J pair – we honestly didn't mean it! We were both busy (still are, actually, so don't hold your breath) and Kakera got a block on it, Aika's block is being steadily chipped away at and… whatever. **

**But we updated! Thanks to Goddessmoon for her telling an ignorant virgin that our couple would have to be human pretzels to pull off positions like that.**

… **I wasn't supposed to tell you that, was I?**

**

* * *

**

**Togewonuku**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**III –Kikkyou**

_**Sunshine and Shadow**_

* * *

Usagi woke peacefully, long-lashed eyelids fluttering before the haze of sleep lifted so that crystal blue might look on the world with that much more grace. The girl closed her eyes and sighed before standing, but at the last moment realised she was naked, and clutched the sheet to her impulsively. As she gazed about the room, she fancied she saw brooding colours and smelt roses and rainwater –

– but dark walls melted into light blue ones, roses became lavender, and rainwater eased into spring nights. Loneliness welled up, and Usagi's legs gave way as she curled up instinctively to guard against the hurt. Where was Mamo-chan? The events of the day came rushing back and she recoiled as they jumbled her thoughts; her panic increased, though for what reason she could not fathom.

'_Moto Azabu_,' Usagi thought grimly, and her hand found clean clothes as she dressed hurriedly. Her haste caused her to fumble, and she bit back an uncharacteristic oath. '_Mamo-chan – I should have stayed awake, dehenshined, gone to look for him!_'

Quickly pulling the slender straps over her shoulders, Usagi attempted to fasten the bra's clasp and paused in confusion. '_By the Crystal… what is this!_'

"It came as quite the surprise, Usagi-chan," Luna's expression could only be described as droll as she tossed the henshin brooch to her ward, who caught it absently and set it down on the bedside table. "Apparently, you age three years or so when transformed – you're eighteen, nearly nineteen now."

Usagi's expression was incredulous as she examined her body with newfound awe. Eighteen – almost nineteen! Mamo-chan's age – a little older, if you counted the fact that her birthday preceded his. She was taller by almost half a foot; obviously, she'd undergo some kind of growth spurt very soon, and… what was this? There were silvery highlights in her hair! They were barely noticeable, but still _there_.

"I'm… beautiful," she murmured, wanting to laugh at her own silliness, but still in awe of the girl in the mirror who was so obviously _her_ but _not_.

"You've always been _rather _pretty, Usagi," Luna said grudgingly; the Moon cat did not approve of primping, which she believed led to vanity. "Demo… you were going somewhere in a hurry? Your mother just left the house to pick your brother up; she would like to talk to you when she returns."

Usagi sighed wistfully; what would Mamo-chan say if he saw her like this? Of equal age – perhaps not of equal intellect, she acknowledged sourly, but of equal age! If she were to lean against him now, on tiptoe, her chin would fit quite snugly into the crook of his neck. For a moment she was tempted –

– and sighed, releasing the transformation, turning away so that she wouldn't see the way she became fifteen again. "I want to go see Mamo-chan," she said quietly to her watching guardian. "I was going to stay to see if he was okay, Luna-chan; Zoisite actually _ignored_ me to go to the school! What if…"

The cat relented upon seeing her charge's misery. "I'll explain to Ikuko where you've gone, then," she said quietly. "Be back in time for dinner, though, and try not to get, ah, _sidetracked_."

Usagi nodded absently as she fastened her bra – now able to cup her full, though modest 'B' size – and blinked, turning back to stare at the black feline. "You… you _talked _to _Mama_!"

"Anou… hai?" Luna looked sheepish. "And sent Makoto-chan back to school, too, seeing as it would be too suspicious to have her absent."

The blonde blinked as she realised that Mamoru's school would be let out soon – but… what if he wasn't there?

'_I'll look for him at home, and maybe wait there until I know he should have been back. Then I'll check at the hospital… or ask Motoki-niichan…' _reviewing her options, Usagi bit her lip in consideration._ 'Maybe I should wait at his home, and then look at the arcade to see?_'

Nodding decisively, she dressed hurriedly in a lilac blouse, pulling the laces tight and adjusting the three-quarter length sleeves before pulling on a pair of new jeans and darting out the door before returning quickly to kiss Luna thankfully on the head. A moment later, the black cat smiled softly as she heard the front door slam. '_Never change, koneko-chan._'

* * *

_Sailormoon was screaming._

_Tuxedo Kamen watched the rise and fall of the whip emotionlessly; behind the stoic façade, Chiba Mamoru fought furiously to be let out. His alter ego merely pulled his cape tighter around him, shuttered eyes blank behind the familiar domino mask – Mamoru shouted all the louder, fists beating against the implacable prison._

_There was a bloody gurgle, a final shudder before all was still._

_Crimson lightened and attained a metallic sheen – _silver_ blood drip, drip, dripped from worn leather, and flat green eyes continued to hold no expression as Zoisite threw back his head and laughed._

_Kamen did not move, though Mamoru begged him, pleaded…_

… _and Sailormoon's head lolled; the white half-mask fell from staring eyes as argent trickled from the corner of a bloodied mouth. _

_Mamoru found himself screaming, screaming, **screaming** as he saw his Usako dead on the ground; as the fuku melted into a gossamer gown of white and gold._

_And Tuxedo Kamen walked away, heedless of the agonised cries in his head as a desperate lover continued to beg and sob and curse._

Mamoru woke with a start.

He jumped out of bed and stumbled blindly to the adjoining bathroom; tense fingers left a visible imprint on the metal handle, but he paid it no heed. Mamoru closed the door roughly, flinching at the loud slam it made before all the feeling went out of his legs and he collapsed onto the toilet, realising belatedly that if the pan had not been down, he'd have likely gotten his rear soaked.

The idea, in all its absurdity, seemed to loosen something deep within the teen – almost a man, still a boy – and he leaned forward and laughed. It was mirthless and hysterical and echoed dully off the porcelain walls. He quieted when a put-out neighbour banged the wall next to his head, and instead lapsed into a long silence, holding his face with white-knuckled hands.

The dream… the nightmare! It had been about his Usako – Mamoru's jaw clenched painfully. She had been screaming… and he had… he had _what_? The details trickled from his mind like water through his hands, but the taste of guilt was sour in his mouth.

So he brushed his teeth.

He brushed them furiously, mindlessly, and only when his gums started to bleed did he stop to stare for a long moment at the wild stranger in the mirror, pink-stained toothpaste foaming about his lips.

'_Usako_.'

Mamoru rinsed his mouth out hurriedly – he _had _to find her, _had _to reassure himself that she was safe…

Spitting out a last, pink-tinged mouthful of water, Mamoru shuddered momentarily as he realised he was still wearing his uniform. The charcoal-grey slacks and white button-up made him feel strangely ill, so he changed hastily into a loose t-shirt and jeans before leaving, pausing only to grab his keys on the way out.

'_I'm coming._'

* * *

Usagi knocked again, listened intently for any signs of movement, and attempted to quash the worry rising in her. '_The arcade,_' she thought hopefully, and turned from the silent apartment door. She would find Mamo-chan, and Mamo-chan would be okay…

* * *

Tsukino Ikuko raised a graceful eyebrow and contemplated her companion.

The small black cat licked delicately at one paw, visibly unconcerned.

"And you've no idea where my daughter might be?"

Luna paused in her toilette to give Ikuko a weary smile. "Tsukino-san —"

"Ikuko," that lady interrupted. "You _are_ a member of the household."

Luna blinked up at her, clearly surprised; Ikuko gave her a motherly smile — with perhaps just a hint of amusement — and wondered how the cat had _expected_ to be treated — abused? Ignored? An invisible squatter, borne only on sufferance? Well, there would be none of that in _Ikuko's_ house; if it was loved, it was family, and the neko clearly loved her daughter dearly.

"…Ikuko-san, then," the feline guardian acknowledged after a moment's hesitation. "— Ikuko-san, I have any number of ideas, all leading to the same conclusion —" she spread her paws. "And all of them are worthless."

Ikuko's eyebrows drew together in worry; seeing this, the Moon Cat hastened to add, "There has been no call from the Senshi, and she didn't seem worried when she promised to hurry home." The red eyes narrowed in amusement. "Well, perhaps she might have been worried for _one_ person."

Ikuko allowed herself a giggle. "Sou desu ka? Thank you, Luna-san; you've been very helpful."

"Thank _you_," Luna said softly. "I could never have presumed —"

"Luna-san," Ikuko said gently, and Luna let her words die away. "Aijou ga itsumo osewa ni natte orimasu." _You're always taking care of my daughter._

"…I'm very glad to have met you," the feline said softly, speaking the final words of an introduction that had never really taken place.

Ikuko smiled softly and shut the door behind her, letting her new friend get on with her interrupted bath. How remarkable that her daughter's _cat_ could so closely resemble a woman her own age; how strange that she could accept it so quickly.

'_How very unsettling to realise that being told your daughter is looking for the young man you _know_ she's made love to is the _reassuring_ confidence._'

Ikuko made her way down the stairs and gave voice to a weary sigh. She didn't _disapprove_, per se — hadn't suddenly changed her mind — wouldn't, _couldn't_ begrudge her daughter ('_My little world heroine!_' she thought rather wildly) a taste of honey in the face of what even she could see was a sea of vinegar —

— but it wasn't only a moment of happiness; it was a whole new can of worms, the prospect of another responsibility to pile on her little Bunny's slender shoulders. It had been one thing when it was 'just Usagi', 'just' her precious darling daughter coming home, well-loved and well-loving and flush with the effects of another step into womanhood; this was — this —

This was no more important, and no less, than it had ever been; Ikuko had always known her firstborn would be a woman of surpassing beauty and import, thinking great thoughts and doing great things, from the moment she looked on the Full Moon after a night with her own true love and felt a quickening in her belly.

Sailormoon was only the first show of it…

…but if only she could _know_, could meet this young man her dear child loved so much, could see that Usagi was as lucky in this 'Mamoru' as she was in Kenji…

She was brought out of her musings (and how long had she been standing in the middle of the stairs, staring into space?) by a knock on the door. '_Now who could that be?_' she wondered. They didn't usually get many visitors at this time of day; the first swell of returning _sarariman_ was just at its crest, and all her fellow housewives would be preparing for the busiest part of their day… a child having kicked its ball into their back yard, perhaps? Little Toshiro-kun seemed to do that three times an hour.

The knocking was becoming slightly more urgent, harder; as if her visitor was a very polite policeman—Ikuko stuffed the thought into a tightly-locked box in the back of her mind and dropped it down a well. She would _not_ borrow trouble, she would _not_ borrow trouble, she would _not_—

— she was exquisitely relieved to find a tall and well-favoured young man of about seventeen years fidgeting a little nervously upon her doorstep.

"Ah — good afternoon, miss," he said politely, briefly reaching to doff a hat he wasn't wearing. "Er, is your little sister home?"

Ikuko beamed upon him; here was a young man of obvious taste and sagacity. '_Still, even the best must prove their worth_,' she thought, and said truthfully, "I'm afraid that I'm an only child."

The young man went rather white. "Er — this isn't the Tsukino residence?"

Ikuko tried very hard not to giggle; young men's egos were _so_ fragile. "Oh, it is; but that doesn't change the fact that you've given me a handsome compliment, or that I'm an only child. I'm Tsukino Ikuko, Usagi's mother," she clasped her hands before her and bowed. "And you are Chiba Mamoru?"

He stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before hastily bowing in return. "Hai, Chiba desu. Etou…" Mamoru rubbed at the back of his neck. "Tsukino-san, is Usak — gomen," he corrected himself to speak in the more polite form, "is your daughter home?"

Ikuko gave him a sympathetic smile. "Gomen, Chiba-san, she isn't — in fact," and here she could not resist bending forward conspiratorially, "I'm afraid that she's actually gone looking for you."

His smile was brief, bright, and dazzling. "She _is_? Please, ma'am, I've _got_ to know, do you have any idea where she might be?"

She tsked gently at him. "Now, I expect you have a better idea than me! I'm only her mother, after all — but I imagine she might try your home, or that park she likes, or perhaps the arcade? Off you go, now, and try to get her back before dark."

"Hai, ma'am!" the boy said gratefully, span on his heel, turned back to make her a deep but hurried bow, and was off down the street as fast as he could pelt.

* * *

Usagi's gaze was still searching the crowded arcade as she slid into a seat next to Makoto and Ami, the brunette giving her an enthusiastic wink and thumbs up even as the quieter girl shot her a more restrained, though equally proud smile. Usagi's confusion dissipated as Makoto leaned closer.

"You sure taught them a lesson, didn't you, Usa-chan?" she whispered, squeezing the small girl's hand. "Weakening a huge youma like that… you're getting to be better and better every day!"

Usagi couldn't help it; she rolled her eyes, feeling the tingling of phantom wounds on her back and a faint whispering sensation across her shoulder as she moved it. "You forgot to say that I got my head kicked in," she pointed out wryly. "Without Tuxedo Kamen –"

"And yet, _you _kept all innocent bystanders safe from harm," Ami interjected, marking her book and setting it aside. She slipped out of her seat and into the booth where Usagi and Makoto were sitting, gesturing for the taller girl to move and continuing to speak even as she probed at Usagi's back with gentle fingers. "Moto Azabu has Sailormoon to thank… and yes, Tuxedo Kamen, too."

Usagi turned, catching a surprised Ami's hands as she looked searchingly at the bluenette. "Are you sure they're all unharmed? Zoisite went after them…" her eyes were fixed deliberately on a point some half-foot above Ami's right shoulder. "And Mamoru-san isn't here. Has he been by today?"

Makoto made an amused sound from behind Usagi's back, but Ami's expression was more of a dismayed thoughtfulness. "Iie… iie, he hasn't," she murmured.

Her brunette counterpart, however, had more important things in mind. "Is your sudden concern for Mamoru-san perhaps –?"

"Mako-chan!" Ami admonished the brunette before Usagi even had the time to blush. "Usagi-chan is merely being concerned, as are we all, I am sure. Be a little more _considerate_."

Makoto looked ready to protest the chastisement. "Demo –"

"Iie," Ami said firmly, both oblivious to a gradually-reddening Usagi.

"Anou… hai," the blonde muttered, and stood up, almost knocking Ami out of the booth. "Gomen, Ami-chan, I just… perhaps Motoki-niichan will know something about it." Usagi tried her best not to look as if she were running, but she couldn't help but hear Makoto's observation that Motoki was busy. '_I guess I'll just sit there looking useless until he comes,_' Usagi thought resignedly.

To her immense relief, the blond eighteen-year-old chose that moment to exit the storage room, bearing several unopened packages of what looked to be various brands of tea. Seeing Usagi, he shoved the tea unceremoniously under the counter and leaned on the surface in question, a charming grin directed at the girl before him. "Usagi-chan…?" Noting the slight furrow in her brow, he tucked a stray curl of golden hair behind Usagi's left ear, smiling kindly at her. "Daijoubu desu ka? Can I help you? Do you want to talk about it? What's wrong?"

The younger girl couldn't help but crack a smile. "Iie, Motoki-niichan, demo… have you seen –"

Usagi was cut off when the bells chimed again, and a ripple of sudden self-consciousness raised gooseflesh on her arms. There was a gaze burning right between her tense shoulder-blades – a familiar stare, and a strangely heated one.

Motoki, confused by her sudden silence, took her hand comfortingly. "Usagi-chan?"

Usagi winced; what had been an intent gaze was now a murderous glare.

Confused, yet strangely exhilarated, she turned around.

* * *

The smile she gave him was brilliant enough that Mamoru found himself smiling in return. The feelings within him were tumultuous – relief continued to war with worry even as his formidable restraint was tested by the very sight of her small face and the sparkle in her eye that he knew to be for _he_, and _he_ alone.

'_She's safe,_' was all he could think, and yet an acid little voice sneered at him. _"Why wouldn't she be?"_

Mamoru frowned as his glare reasserted itself at where his best friend was holding Usagi's hand. Perhaps recognising the emotion as possessive jealousy, his Usako winked slyly at him and withdrew her hand before placing it demurely alongside the other on her lap.

_You're being silly, _her eyes seemed to say, and Mamoru could scarce hold in his love and amusement.

"You _make_ me silly," he muttered so that only she could hear as he took a seat beside her. Her cheeks pinked the faintest hue, and he resisted the urge to take her hand as Motoki had scarce moments before. Due to the somewhat unsatisfied train his thoughts were on, he was no little surprised, though nonetheless delighted, to feel a small hand caress his thigh for a moment, jerking itself away in embarrassment before being hastily caught by one of his own to prevent its darting back into her lap.

Mamoru, only just realising his actions, looked casually over his shoulder and saw that Usagi had positioned herself so that the movement of her hand would be unseen by any behind or before them. He resisted the urge to chuckle. '_Smart girl_.'

"Mamo – ru-san? Mamoru-san!"

Mamoru was too amused by her misstep to prevent his own. "Hai, U-'dango?" he corrected himself hastily, and the wicked gleam in his lover's eye told him that she had caught his mistake and his slip. "What is it?"

"I was wondering… you go to Moto Azabu, ne?"

"Hai," he answered, feeling her hand clutch at his a little harder. "Doushite? Why ask?" She knew very well he attended the school in question…

"I heard there was a – a monster there earlier. You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Mamoru recognised his usual cue, and donned a teasing smile. "And why would Odango-san be worried for the Baka's sake? You might not actually begin to –" he paused dramatically, catching Motoki's reproachful look and paying no heed to it, "– _care_, would you?"

"Don't call me that," she said automatically, but her eyes did not waver from his own. "Mamoru-_baka_, then, were you hurt?"

He dropped the act. "Iie," he said, and tried not to think of Sailormoon's screaming, or how the wound from the ice crystal had burned.

As if sensing his insincere answer, Usagi gave him a searching look even as her hand left his to accept her milkshake, murmuring absent thanks to Motoki.

Mamoru almost sighed in relief when she turned away, still only half-convinced of his wellbeing. Taking the proffered coffee, he hissed as the hot liquid burned his fingers and shot a half-hearted glare at Motoki, who raised his hands as if to claim blamelessness before returning his attention to Usagi.

"You were saying earlier, Usagi-chan?" the girl looked up questioningly before a reluctant smile suffused her features.

"It doesn't matter now," she said, and Mamoru's hand itched to hold hers again. "I was actually looking for the Baka here –" she broke off, realising her mistake, and Mamoru, about to take a sip of coffee, almost spat it out as he felt a sudden pinch below his waistline, the worn jeans providing little protection against Usagi's nails. He shot a disgruntled look at Usagi, who met it with one of her own. _Say something_, her expression told him._ Anything._

"Don't tell me you've lost it _again_," he mocked a sigh and reached over to steal a pen from Motoki's apron pocket. "I don't suppose you'd have paper, either?" he drawled at the indignant blond.

"These are for _customers_," Motoki retorted, patting the notepad he carried about for orders. "_You_ are just an evil leech of a best friend who comes in for free coffee. I don't call 'sponging' being a _paying customer _–"

"See if I ever leave you tips again," Mamoru shot back, scribbling busily on a napkin he had appropriated for the purpose and presenting it to Usagi with an obnoxious flourish. "There you go," he said, almost forgetting to inject the proper combination of mocking contempt and annoyance into his voice, "and don't lose it again! I'm only tutoring you because I owe _Tsukino-san _a big favour…" the subtle wink that accompanied Mamoru's statement turned the innocent excuse into a lewd insinuation.

Unable to decide what else to do in reply, Usagi swallowed her mouthful of milkshake and began to blow a raspberry. Seeing Mamoru's eyes darken suddenly, she hastily retracted the offending tongue and snatched up the napkin in a feeble pretence at interest.

Mamoru bit down hard on his lip, enough so that he drew blood, and exited the arcade before anyone else could say a word, leaving behind a dismayed and somewhat embarrassed Usagi, a confused Motoki and two inquisitive classmates bearing down on the hapless blonde.

* * *

"You were _looking _for Mamoru-kun?" Motoki repeated in disbelief, almost dropping the shake glass he had been cleaning.

Usagi glanced down at the napkin and almost laughed before casually tucking the scrap of tissue into her pocket. "It's for math," she responded quickly – a little too quickly, the blonde realised, hiding a grimace behind another sip of milkshake. "Mama said that I needed a tutor, and Baka-san there was recommended for it… he probably wouldn't have done it, either, if Mama hadn't helped him that one time," she added hastily, taking another sip of her milkshake. Usagi almost choked again as an exuberant clap on her back threatened the drink to make an unpleasant reappearance.

"Mako-chan!" Ami said reprovingly, though her eyes were curious behind the wire-rimmed reading glasses. "Be _careful_…"

"Gomen ne, Usa," the brunette apologised automatically, thumping on Usagi's back a few more times in a hazardous attempt to 'help' her friend.

"Matte!" Usagi whispered hoarsely, "Mako, I'm fine…"

"What was this favour, Usagi-chan?" Motoki asked, offering her some water to clear her throat. "And what did he give you?"

The smaller blonde's eyes widened perceptibly as she tried to conjure an excuse, failed miserably and finished her milkshake off hastily before almost throwing herself from the counter. "Anou… I better get this to Mama – it's his number and house-address, see, and I lost it before, and I don't want to lose it again and have to talk to Mamoru-san anymore because he'll – gomen-I-must-go-now-bye!"

Usagi didn't wait for a chance for them to stop her; it was a miracle, really, that she did not slip or skid into any objects or people as she took her leave. Just to the right of the arcade, Usagi retrieved the crumpled 'note' from her pocket and did her best to decipher her lover's spiky handwriting. She turned it over in her hands and, finally finding which way was up and which way was down, paused to read it.

_Be careful about what you say around Motoki…_

A wistful smile appearing on her lips, Usagi could almost see the way Mamoru's mouth would twist wryly as he spoke of his best friend with faintly-hidden pride and exasperation.

…_he's not as much a baka as he looks._

Usagi blinked. That was it? Just to tell her to be careful around his best friend, and a snide insult directed at the aforementioned friend's intelligence? '_How childish_,' she thought, faintly amused in spite of her annoyance. She remembered his not-so-subtle glare directed at Motoki scarce ten minutes earlier. '_I suppose it only goes to show that even Chiba Mamoru of the Invincible Ego can be jealous._'

Still turning the napkin over and over in as she tried to reign in her disappointment, she caught a glimpse of writing on the underside and squinted at it, stopping before the entrance to a dead-lane where the arcade emptied its dumpsters.

_Alley_.

Usagi frowned at the characters that made up the phrase. '_What –?_' She let out a breathless squeak as strong hands grasped her, the napkin falling from her grasp only to be ground into the dirty pavement beneath her assaulter's heel as his hands wound themselves into her long hair, tilting her head back so that he might kiss her all the better.

Recognising the subtle scent of roses and rainfall, she hastily lowered her knee from its threatening position, but Mamoru seemed to register the movement and his mirth rumbled _through _him and _into _her so that she couldn't stop the groan any more than she could have stopped herself from pressing closer to his warmth as the heat in her belly leapt in response to the gleam in his eyes.

"Glad you recognised me," he teased, and kissed her again. "Feeling threatened, Usako?" He loomed over her, arms coming about his lover's small frame in a tight embrace. "Seems I've caught myself a little spitfire," he mumbled into her hair. '_Is it really possible to love any girl – any _person_ or individual this much?_' he thought distractedly, inhaling her scent; strawberries and blossoms and spring nights. His heart felt so _full_ now in comparison – life before Usako had never been truly _bad_, but it was viewed in blacks and whites and greys: in loneliness. '_Don't let her go!_'

"_You've_ caught –" she began to argue half-heartedly, but he seemed intent on silence as his lips brushed tenderly against hers, again and again so _softly _that she was suddenly _far _more interested in persuading forth more sparks and fire from him than scolding or squabbling; almost certainly her too-knowing lover's intention from the start. Through the haze in her mind, she felt – sensed? How did she? – conflict in his taut frame; in every line of his hard body. '_What can be bothering him?_' she wondered absently before humming low in her throat in response to the pleasure of seeing, feeling, _being_ with him.

She didn't quite register when he had moved so that his lean body pinned her against the wall, being too preoccupied with the way his mouth slanted over hers, a large hand trailing delicate circles at the small of her back as the other crushed her to him in an unshakeable grip. The heat would burn her alive, it would, she knew… though it hadn't quite done that the night before it _had_ to, it _would_…

And in her mind's eye flashed the same vision of the same child she had envisioned the night before – sturdy, like his father, and serious-eyed, like his father, a shock of darkness crowning his head… like his father's… or perhaps it would be a girl, slender, with strangely familiar eyes that laughed with the world –

"_You wish, Usagi,"_ a snide voice whispered, and Usagi's heart ached suddenly before the pain was filled in with Mamo-chan's love. "_You wish,"_ it snarled again and her heart wilted with quiet despair.

'_But it is the wishing that is beautiful,_' the pain fell away as she pushed it forcefully from her mind, her eye-sense and hear-sense and touch-sense and everything filled with Mamo-chan.

"_Sailormoon walks alone."_

'_There is no Sailormoon without Tsukino Usagi… and maybe… no Tsukino Usagi without Chiba Mamoru._' Usagi's scattered momentarily as she thought _he's not here where has he gone where have you gone, Mamo-chan _and then realised he was standing a little back from her, eyes bright in the shadows, hands smoothing down her sides, brushing ever-so-suggestively against the swell of her breasts before cupping them both, thumbs rubbing briefly where he could see the aroused tips even through blouse and undergarments. He pulled her closer; his mouth found the sensitive spot at her throat, her heart echoing, beating the rhythm of his as it resonated through her.

"_Unreasonable, selfish, foolish, damning the world for the love of one man…"_

Usagi faltered, and even Mamoru's soothing presence and the warmth in her belly could not immediately banish the sudden chill. Perhaps misinterpreting her sudden stillness, he drew away but was thwarted in that quest as the blonde latched almost desperately onto him again, causing them both to stumble and a sigh of breathless laughter to escape his lips as he simply held her to him, their pulses beating erratically against one another as Mamoru's hands clenched at the material of her shirt, she moving sinuously, almost absently against him before he whispered a plea for her to _stop Usako stop please don't stop but stop please…_

'_I feel warm,_' Usagi thought faintly, and was faintly surprise when the voice did not answer. '_Mamo-chan…_'

"Hai?" he said suddenly. His voice was taut with strain and she realised she must have said his name aloud. "Usako?" he hissed again as she moved against the evident strain in his jeans.

"I –" she licked swollen lips and his mouth was suddenly covering hers. "Mmmmm," came the reluctant protest, and he came away, smoothing her hair back tenderly before she felt the full weight of her ankle-length hair on her head, he having removed the pins holding up her odangos.

"I didn't think you were going to come," Mamoru's voice was huskier than usual and Usagi leaned contentedly against him, not protesting as his embrace tightened to the point of almost-pain before slowly relaxing.

"I thought you'd given me a small piece of nothing," she answered, snuggling closer. "Still, the bit in there with the tutoring – how did you come up with that so quickly?"

She felt the subtle rumble in his chest as he chuckled deeply. "It isn't so hard, Odango," he began teasingly, and she recognised his 'heckle-Odango' mode, standing hurriedly on tiptoe to kiss the corner of his mouth in an attempt to distract him. Her ploy worked, he taking her hand and tracing patterns on it with a long finger. "I guess I was just inspired," he finally answered, winking a suddenly-roguish ocean-blue eye at her and bringing her hand to his lips in a chaste kiss that belied their earlier passion.

"I was thinking that maybe you _could_ help me with my math things," Usagi murmured, trying not to blush at his actions; her Mamo-chan could be so sweet sometimes. "Tutoring, I mean," she clarified; stung in spite of herself at the flabbergasted expression her lover wore.

"Usako?" he ventured cautiously. "Why?" Perhaps sensing her annoyance, he pulled her closer, leaning his head so that his chin rested comfortably between where her odangos would have been had he not undone them. "It's not that you are stupid – a little bit of a dreamer, maybe, but you're not stupid. Demo… why would you want to get help from me?"

The blonde nuzzled at his chest, her voice muffled in his t-shirt. "Anou… I _did_ think it'd be nice to spend more time with you," she murmured, "and that if Papa found out about… well, _us_, he'd be a lot nicer if it was my boyfriend that had me bringing home tests that were perhaps more than… well, thirty percent."

He laughed again, and kissed her; she took that as his consent, an assumption confirmed when he informed her "How could I resist?" before telling her, in no uncertain terms, that at least half the lessons would need to be scheduled at her house. "Temptation is still temptation," said he by way of reply to her protests.

Reluctantly, Usagi unwound her arms from him as she noted the lengthened shadows. "I'm supposed to be home for dinner… demo, perhaps you'd like to drop in and say hello? We can tell them about you giving me lessons then!"

Mamoru couldn't hold back the incredulity in his tone. "Usako," he whispered hoarsely.

"You can always ask Mama on the phone," she ventured helpfully.

'_Bless her, she's allowing me an escape route,_' Mamoru thought fondly as he lowered his head so that his bangs brushed hers. "I'll come… I'll speak to your parents and –"

"And if they ask, will you stay for dinner?" Usagi's eyes sparkled at him and he couldn't help but return her smile.

"My car's around the corner," he replied, watching as she winced at his blatant evasion. He stepped backwards, a hand coming up to touch her slightly-bruised lips before letting it fall. Disappointment evident in her eyes at his dismissal, she waited to see if he would say anything more and drooped visibly when he did not.

"I can walk home myself," she tried. "It's not too far away."

"At this time of night?" Mamoru answered, ignoring the fact that there was a good two hours or so before daylight dimmed to dusk. "I can drive you."

Usagi shrugged and made as if to turn away; he halted her with his smile.

"For what it's worth," Mamoru ventured – was that a quaver in his voice? – "I'd love to."

Her answering smile made his heart ache; they clasped hands briefly, she pulling reluctantly away. Mamoru watched her silhouette at the mouth of the alley, savouring the way the afternoon sun bronzed the lilac and faded blue of her clothes and tinted her rich tresses of hair, before he followed.

* * *

_**Glossary **_

**_kikkyou_—sunshine and shadow; fortune**

**_koneko—_kitten**

**_Aijou ga itsumo osewa ni natte orimasu_—'You're always taking care of my daughter.' It is traditional, when being introduced to a friend of one's family, to apologise for all the trouble your relative has given their friend, or to compliment them for always looking after them. This doesn't usually have anything to do with the actual state of affairs; Jikkan-chan couldn't resist having it be true, for once.  
**

**_Sarariman_—English loanword: 'Salary man'. A company employee.  
**

**_Daijoubu desu ka?_—'Are you all right?' with a more physical implication than 'Ogenki desu ka?' 'How are you feeling?'.**

**

* * *

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**A/N: Finally! Chapter done… and you all know that I'm a review whore, so here's my hoping you'll drop a line. If it's signed, I'll definitely reply, and if it's not… well, I guess I won't. /sweatdrops/ Anyway, we're hoping to reach to about seventy reviews? That would be quite nice. /ignores how stupid she sounds and smiles hopefully at readers/. Please?**


	4. Kekki

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* * *

A/N: Here's Arashi-chan with another chapter for Toge… much as she hates to admit it, it's the shortest one, or the second-shortest, but contains several important plot points. It would have been possible to wait until New Years to load, giving you a more satisfactory chapter, but she (Arashi) was mortified at not having updated in so long and so… **

**Digressing, my utmost thanks to Goddessmoon! Joshin-, Wish-chan, I could never have done this without you /glompage/. Lububblenesses…es. Without further ado, I present chapter four of Togewonuku! Oh, and review, please. /cheesy grin/.

* * *

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**Togewonuku**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**IV – Kekki**

**_Rising to Action_  
**

'_I can still hear her screaming._'Rei's hands clenched and unclenched convulsively on the handle of the twig broom; unseeing eyes gazed over the verdant foliage of the cherry trees that lined her home. '_I can still hear her screaming, and yet…_

'_And yet – even now! – I can think only of how she looked with Mamoru-san._'

Unable to deny her own jealousy, Rei set herself to sweeping the threshold of the Hikawa Jinja with renewed vigour, the twigs making a soft _swish_ing sound as they brushed roughly against weathered stone.

'_Listen to yourself, Hino Rei_,' she thought furiously, stalking over to the small heap of swept leaves and beating the head of the abused broom so that everything caught in the battered twigs fluttered out and down to join the rest of the assembled rubbish. '_You are making a spectacle of yourself over a_ boy_ whose name you cannot attach an endearment to even when thinking it _subconsciously'

"If it were anyone but the Odango!" she hissed aloud, startling even herself with the outburst and the accompanying shame. Just as quickly as guilt made itself known, anger kindled to life as she continued her inner monologue, the leaves whipping about her in voiceless mockery of her fury. Why _shouldn't _she – Rei, the wronged one – be jealous and angry? The young priestess felt her own eyes well up dangerously and blinked furiously to hold back the flood. Crying was _Usagi's_ job, not hers.

'_Usagi…_'

Usagi, who had been lashed mercilessly by Zoisite, and somehow found fortitude enough to stand and use an attack that had weakened her tormentor enough that the dark general might be destroyed. Usagi, who had stood alone against both youma and Terror and had persevered. Usagi, who Mamoru had made love to –

'_Iie_.'

A fat tear oozed out despite her best efforts and Rei, too surprised at her own lack of control to even dash it away, felt its swift course down her cheek, watched its brief sparkle in the afternoon sun before it splashed silently onto dusty stone.

Self-pity made its presence known as a crushing pressure in her chest, and Rei thought she might choke. Just how long had _it _been _happening_? Had Usagi been laughing inside at Rei every time the miko had crowed over her growing closeness with Mamoru?

'_Slut_,' she thought furiously, but something, some_one _inside her own skin and mind and soul responded with a dry, _Bitch_.

That brought the brunette up short and the soft shuffle of sandaled feet behind her alerted Rei to her grandfather's approaching presence.

"Malevolent anger has no place in this temple," the elderly priest said softly, "unless one wishes to be cleansed of it." An ugly look on her face, Rei opened her mouth to deliver her customary waspish reply — and more than was customary; how dare _he_ reprimand her —

The smaller man's eyes narrowed dangerously. He raised a hand in uncommon authority.

"**Quiet**."

Stunned into silence, the miko watched her grandfather with wary eyes. "Jealousy and spite run rampant through your entire aura – if you continue to behave so, you will disrupt even the Sacred Fire's pure power."

"I –"

"It has always been unusually fond of you," the old man continued, flipping an ofuda about his hands. His eyes hardened again and he brandished the ward. "Fondness or not, however, I will have to put my foot down this time."

Rei stood to her full height, looming over her grandfather, purplish eyes furious. "You would _banish_ me as if –"

"Do you see now why most priests and priestesses remain celibate?" His sudden interruption destroyed what semblance of her usual hauteur she had managed to rake about herself.

"_Nani_?" she half-shouted.

"So it _is_ a boy," he murmured, eyeing the defiant expression on her face. "Rei-chan, I have always been lax with your training. You demonstrate such a strong affinity for reading signs in the fire, spiritual banishment and even some faint detection of conflicting energies, that perhaps thinking that your gift would have been enough, I have let you run free with your power. That is perhaps the largest mistake I have ever allowed myself to make."

"Demo –"

"You have no discipline. You scold some, like Usagi-chan, for being unladylike and clumsy, but you are perhaps worse than she. Your chidings are hypocritical, granddaughter – you can meditate, but you never practice tranquillity. You are powerful, but you fling it about as if it were a toy with which to demand prestige. You _abuse_ the Sacred Fire by using it in a blatant disregard for privacy…"

"Sofu…" she whispered, her proud pose bowed in the face of his accusations and perhaps the first true scolding she had ever received from him. '_How does he know?_'

"You touched a very powerful aura last night," he informed her. "_Immense golden light_… such as which is legendary, to be true. It is also unquestionably masculine, which prompts curiosity of what you had decided to pry into. It also brings to mind the signature of a young man I met two days ago to the hour, though his _ki _was considerably less showy…

"It is not too difficult to connect such coincidences with jealousy and malice."

"Connect…?"

"You returned home furious. You used the Fire to pry into something you had no business in, judging by the person's rejection of you. Even now, you are jealous. I met a stubborn young man two days ago whose aura, if you dismiss the difference in power levels, resembled the one that did not like you far too well. If you add to this the fact that the boy in question was courting a fine young lady who would be quite anguished should she know of the pain she has unwittingly caused you, then I think I have constructed a crude image of what may have occurred." His gaze was steady, though hers faltered before she looked resolutely away. "Correct me if I am wrong, Granddaughter."

The shrine's grounds were unbearably still; every soul and _kami_ in it watched without speaking, permeating their surroundings so that it seemed even the usual vitality of their aura was overwhelmed, becoming more like the echoing stillness of a court, or a tomb.

Silence reigned —

Until it was broken by the violent clatter of a temple broom as it was thrown harshly to the ground, and quiet died in a swirl of red and white and dark, dark hair.

"You're wrong," she said without looking back, and vanished into the shrine.

Obiki Gaisofu didn't turn to watch his granddaughter's retreat, instead inhaling the brisk evening air and thinking of gold and fire and many other things that did not show on his face.

"You are a good liar, Granddaughter," he whispered, and turned to smile at the sun, slanting gracefully so that amber light played across everything the old priest could see, "But falsehoods have a way of allowing themselves to be heard."

* * *

'_Indulgence in one's hormonal urges_,' Chiba Mamoru thought sourly, '_has the worst way of turning around and biting one in the ass._' His face was outwardly calm as he smiled his thanks to Ikuko over another helping of rice, but the brunet was all-too-aware of the calculating stare with which the Tsukino Patriarch had fixed the side of his head. 

The seventeen-year-old took a sip of his water, weathered a probing inquiry from young Shingo, who was almost as suspicious of the interloper at his family's table as his father, and smiled tenderly at the way his lover would check herself every few moments before forcing herself to eat with a little less enthusiasm. Whether it was due to his presence at the table or a desire to show her parents that the boy she had been caught kissing on her doorstep was not a _completely _bad influence, Mamoru could not help but find her strange hesitance charming.

"Eighteen in August," he answered Ikuko's enthusiastic inquiries, trying not to notice the way Usagi's father seemed to be more interested in doing some unnecessary damage to his dinner (the ornate chopsticks held in a white-knuckled grip) than eating it.

"I thought you were older," the indigo-haired matriarch replied fondly. "You are so very well-spoken." Everybody ignored the quiet, strangled noise Kenji made in response to his wife's compliment, though Usagi gave her father a reproachful look. Mamoru had a faint impression of outrage from where the eldest Tsukino sat at the opposite end of the table, and tried not imagine how even one well-manoeuvred chopstick could quite easily gouge out his eyes. In spite of feeling an increasing desire to return home with all haste and bury himself under his bedcovers, Mamoru managed to retain his mild expression and politeness, even going so far to ask Kenji to pass the teriyaki sauce.

However, his famous composure decided to desert him when he felt the distinct sensation of now-familiar fingers playing with the hem of his shirt – the brunet tried not to choke in alarm and arousal as Usagi's wayward hand slipped under worn cotton and caressed the taut skin of his stomach for several eternities before withdrawing. He chanced a quick glance at her to find his lover looking supremely composed – save, of course, the blush spreading from the tips of her ears to the back of her neck.

"Mamoru-san?" Ikuko asked, her guest's subtle flush of embarrassment succeeding his sudden silence. Her expression was far too knowing for his comfort, and he tried not to squirm. Dark eyes danced wickedly as Usagi's mother inquired, "Daijoubu desu ka?"

"H-hai," he responded, cursing the way his voice cracked – the knowing light became a glow of certainty, and he looked away from Ikuko's laughing expression to stare determinedly at the soy sauce, keenly aware of the indigo-haired woman's meaningful glance toward her daughter.

And Kenji was _still_ staring at him.

Leaving the house with much screaming and panic seemed to Mamoru perhaps the worst possible way to react (or endear himself to his lover's father), although he had heard tales from his best friend of similarly-cursed males and their own reactions. Mamoru's laughing response at the time had been that 'with the Odango's penchant for braining innocent passers-by with various papers and shoes, one could only have expected at least one of her role-models in life to be as violent'. Now, faced with the terrible tragedy of reality, the upperclassman silently reconsidered every deriding word he had ever spoken in reference to the poor souls – Tsukino Kenji was truly a nightmare that only the most nervous and insecure of boyfriends and potential-boyfriends could ever comprehend.

Not that Mamoru was insecure or nervous, of course; at least, he was not foolish enough to exhibit it. Such things only encouraged what should not be encouraged, namely the aforementioned father's desire to see an already unwanted boyfriend gone.

Observing that the elder man's plate had stayed all but untouched, Mamoru felt that he should at least ensure the lion would not be too vicious from hunger before its potential victim offered itself up on a silver platter. "Tsukino-san," Mamoru murmured, his words almost hitching as Usagi took his hand under the table. His next sentence came out as almost a croak. Perhaps understanding at last the dangerous effect she and her soft touches had on Mamoru's concentration and train of thought, Usagi removed her hand with unneeded haste, though he thought he could detect amusement beneath her chagrin. "If I may have a word with you, Tsukino-san?" Mamoru repeated the honorific a little more clearly, pleased that his voice did not repeat its brief and glorious frog-imitation.

All four Tsukinos shot Mamoru looks of varying levels of disbelief implying that all present thought the eloquently-spoken high-schooler less sane than one would initially believe.

Their reactions were hardly of any help in calming the inwardly-panicked brunet – indeed, their effect on him was quite the opposite, and for a moment his calm mien faltered and his Adam's apple bobbed twice, he swallowing nervously before speaking again: "Ah… privately?"

'_Idiot! _Don't _listen to me, Tsukino-san…!_'

It was shortly proved that the addressed was not telepathic or psychic in any way; he paused to consider and then nodded curtly, standing and striding into the kitchen.

Mamoru swore he could see the words on his epitaph.

'_Here lies Chiba Mamoru,_' he thought, following obediently after Kenji and feeling his stomach writhe as it was suddenly beset by a colony of amorous worms,'_an Idiot of the First Order who perished in the foolhardy quest to brave one Tsukino Kenji's wrath alone and un-championed. Let his last words and actions in the public eye – a request to speak privately with the overprotective father of his underage lover – be an example to all hormonal young men who yet live in blissful ignorance of this tragedy._'

The kitchen door swung shut, and its ingratiating creak was abominably loud in the sudden quiet cloaking the house. Shingo excused himself, looking as if he would very much like to stay and see what would happen, but leaving all the same.

Hearing the sudden, soft murmurs of voices, Ikuko and Usagi exchanged glances and waited impatiently until the front door closed behind the youngest Tsukino male before darting over press their ears against the kitchen door.

"…is too young," Kenji could be heard saying. Both his wife and his daughter could hear the scowl in his voice, and both could not help but smile at his predictability, though their amusement only deepened at Mamoru's reply.

"Tsukino-san, the purpose of my accepting your daughter's kind invitation to dinner was _not_ to play the obsequious suitor. She has requested that I tutor her in several areas (Geometry, Trigonometry and English grammar being three such subjects) and I consented under the condition that her guardians approved."

"I don't doubt your capabilities in that area, judging from the conversation at dinner, but what of the location of these lessons? It is hardly decent for a young girl and one such as yourself to…" the older man's meaningful pause had the two eavesdropping Tsukinos rolling their eyes in unison.

"We will not be alone," Mamoru replied evenly, "because I had your house – perhaps a study area or even this very table? – as the location in mind. As Tsukino-san is, from what your daughter tells me, often about the house, then Usagi-chan and I will be properly chaperoned at all times."

"He would make a fine diplomat," a voice whispered from somewhere next to Usagi's and Ikuko's ankles, and after greeting Luna with appreciative giggles, all three quieted to hear Kenji's reply.

"Demo… I will only consent to this arrangement if I have your absolute word that you will refrain from _any inappropriate behaviour_ under this roof."

"Chiba-san," Ikuko muttered, ignoring her daughter's hissed plea for quiet. "Surely you are not going to succumb to my pig-headed husband's brutish, hypocritical demands?"

"_Ma_ma!"

"Tsukino-san," the listeners thought they could detect the faintest trace of ironic humour in Mamoru's resigned tone, "I _swear_ that I will not touch your daughter –" ("He's got some nerve," Usagi muttered furiously under her breath) "– or compromise her virtue while I am her tutor," the upperclassman finished.

Both Ikuko and Luna looked down and up, respectively, at the younger Tsukino, who was frowning at the closed door. Her displeasure with her lover was quite evident in the set of her jaw and the glint in her eye, but her companions remained silent, deciding there and then that discretion was the better part of valour.

Hearing footsteps, the eavesdroppers backed away hastily, Usagi beginning to gather up the chopsticks and sauces while Ikuko cleared the plates. As Luna was not distracted by the stacking of china, she saw very clearly the exasperated glare Usagi shot Mamoru as he returned. Her oblivious lover merely asked her if she needed assistance with the cutlery, and seemed taken aback when her reply contained a subtle undertone of curtness. Luna shook her head in amusement and made her way to the living room to curl up on an armchair. Perhaps she should tell Usagi to go easy on the boy.

If anyone were present, they would have sworn that the small feline had grinned.

'_Let her be playful. After all, there is only so much she can do._'

* * *

'_Indulgence in the furious demands of an overprotective father to stay away from his daughter,_' Chiba Mamoru thought savagely, '_has _the _most _frustrating_ manner of coming around and kicking your ass until it is black and blue and sprouting bright red flowers._' 

The brunet shifted and tapped his companion's nose to get her attention again. "Usako," he murmured, all-too-aware of his lover's mother's presence not ten meters away. "If you are given the lengths of three sides of a triangle, what formula would you use to determine an unknown angle? The other two angles are also unknown."

Usagi took a moment to digest this, chewing absently on the end of the pen in her hand. Mamoru fidgeted again as he watched her lips purse thoughtfully, and had to be prodded back into reality. "Nani?"

"I said," she repeated patiently, "'is the triangle a right triangle?'"

He smiled at her. "It isn't."

"Cosine law, then," she proclaimed. With an approving hum, Mamoru intercepted the ballpoint before it could make its way back into the blonde's mouth again. "Mamo-chan!"

"Tradition dictates that one will use an erasable medium in the working of sums," he intoned, quoting his math professor and adjusting imaginary spectacles. She stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Rolling her eyes to indicate the lack of impression his pompous words had upon her, Usagi picked up his mechanical pencil and, undeterred by the eraser at the end of it, stuck it in her mouth and began to chew that instead.

Mamoru stared, fixated.

"That's disgusting, you know," he heard himself say absently even as he dragged a spare textbook over and plopped it on his lap.

Funnily enough, Usagi found his squirming amusing, and the text on English grammar's new location seemed to have her holding back a laugh. Mamoru felt the stirring in his trousers again and resisted the urge to hiss at it.

"Name the formula for Sine Law," the older boy said abruptly, putting his face in his hands in a gesture of false weariness in order to hide his blush.

"We already did that one, Mamo-chan."

Mamoru swallowed. "I just want to make sure…"

Usagi's reproachful look was followed by an obedient "angle _a_ over side _a _equals angle _b_ over side _b _equals angle _c _–"

Her recitation was interrupted by a muted beeping. Mamoru blinked as she fumbled in her pockets for the pink pager, and he frowned, something stirring in his memory. "Usa –"

She smiled tightly at him, and he reached for her hand, sudden concern welling up. She allowed him to take it, and squeezed briefly his callused fingers in affection before shrugging them away. "Sorry, Rei must want something," she murmured. "I better answer it." Usagi didn't wait for an answer before leaving abruptly, Mamoru's shrewd gaze boring into her back.

"Where is it this time?" she hissed, already reaching for her brooch as Rei appeared on the small screen. "You have no idea how much trouble you could have gotten me into!"

"I have an idea," the miko said, burgundy eyes uncommonly intense as she stared up at Usagi's disgruntled expression. "The youma's two blocks down from the Crown Arcade; I'm still at the temple, so I'll take longer to get there."

"Two blocks down in which direction?" Usagi asked, slipping upstairs into her room. Her heart clenched as she thought of what Mamoru would think.

"Just follow the screaming," the miko said curtly, and the screen went blank.

"What's _her _problem?" the blonde murmured, and knelt to pet a slumbering Luna. "Luna, there's an attack near the Crown Arcade –"

"I heard," the feline said drowsily, but her next words sounded far more awake. "And Mamoru-san?"

"Still waiting for me," Usagi said, and it was impossible to miss the subdued slump of her shoulders before she raised the golden brooch, her mouth forming her henshin phrase.

A floor below her, Mamoru's eyes snapped shut and he fell to his knees, desperation suffusing his movements as he clawed at his chest. The link tugged and hauled on his heartstrings, surging and falling in a rhythm he vaguely recognised as a frenzied heartbeat.

Something wanted out – something wanted to _get out and…_

'_No!_' What if she came back and found he was gone? He would not allow it!

And as suddenly as it came, the need released him. It was not gone, no, but it was more benevolent than violent, now. How such a desperate emotion like need could be benevolent escaped the youth, but he closed his eyes, and hoped that the Gods who had forged the much-unwanted link would not condemn him for his inaction.

Several blocks away, Sailormoon bounded across the rooftops, a small black cat in her arms.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I will explain later why Tuxedo Kamen could resist Sailormoon's pain and the summons/henshin in chapter two and not in this one. It all comes down to growth, really… but it'll be covered later. **

** For now, though... I've noticed that Toge's getting less and less readers. Chapter one has had more reviews than the other chapters combined... surely you'd oblige us this time... /wheedles/. Please?**

**Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!

* * *

**


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